


Feelings

by azuresky18



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Gallavich, Gay Sex, M/M, Teenagers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azuresky18/pseuds/azuresky18
Summary: Ian Gallagher experienced a lot of conflicting feelings on his way to realizing he was attracted to Mickey Milkovich.A third-person limited perspective of S1 up to E7, from Ian’s POV.





	Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to extend a shout-out to MarzgaPerez for being an awesome beta reader for this. Thank you so much!

_Fear._

Ian was terrified when Mickey Milkovich and his two brothers came bursting into the Kash and Grab like bats out of hell. The skinny, redheaded teen went from stocking milk on the shelves, minding his own business, to fearing for his very life. He was shocked to learn that Mandy had said he had done something horrible. As far as Ian knew, he’d just turned her down.

Ian had no idea what Mandy had told her brothers about their ill-fated hookup in the Gallagher house. Fiona asked, “Who did what to Mandy Milkovich?” Mandy tore from the house, crying, but Ian couldn’t explain then why he’d rejected her. He couldn’t, because it’d mean he’d have to come out to this girl who had wanted Ian to fuck her…and now that she had a grudge against him, it’d be all over the neighborhood in no time. Ian knew for sure he was the “who” of the equation, but the “what,” at least in _his_ mind, was a mystery.

So now he had to deal with the goon squad coming for his blood. _Lucky me._

 _“Ian Gallagher!_ You messed with the wrong girl!” came the bellowed threat, which Ian had every reason to believe was a threat on his life. He’d seen enough – and heard more than enough – to know the Milkoviches were not a family to be trifled with. He’d seen Mandy at school, but she was always the slut, the one from a bad crowd, of the dregs of society even by South Side standards. Hell, the Gallaghers were respected compared to them, and that wasn’t saying a whole hell of a lot given Frank’s standing.

Ian did the only thing he could do. He ran and hid, because while he may have been able to take Mickey, there was no way he could take Jamie and Joey, the behemoths who came into the store alongside him. He locked the door just in time, and he could hear the shortest and meanest one – that was Mickey – screaming at him to come out. At this point, Ian was terrified. He was locked in the room and didn’t know if Kash had run off.

 _I’m going to die,_ Ian thought _. I’m going to get shot, or beaten up, and left in a ditch to die, and I don’t even know what the fuck it was that I did in the first place!_

Ian was afraid of Mickey. The latter wasn’t a big guy by any means, but alongside his brothers, they were a force to be reckoned with. Even with the amount of grappling and shooting experience he’d had, there was no way Ian, as one kid, could take them all – in spite of his deceptively short stature, Ian could tell Mickey would be able to back that mouth up with action. Thankfully, Kash saved his ass, telling the thugs Ian had exited out the door in the back of the storeroom. Through the locked door, Ian could hear Mickey yell at Kash, “Tell fuckhead this is not over!”

_Thank fuck. They’re gone. But who knows when the fuck they’ll be back? I gotta talk to Mandy and fix this. I gotta straighten out this whole mess and get her to call the dogs off._

If he couldn’t get out of this and actually explain to Mandy he hadn’t meant to hurt her, that was exactly what Ian had feared. He didn’t know how he was going to escape, because he was frightened by what was likely in the gossip mill now about what he’d allegedly done to Mandy Milkovich. He feared the unknown, but what he did know was her brothers scared the shit out of him. Now he had no idea how he would extricate himself from this terrifying mess.

 

* * *

 

_Determination._

Ian was sick and tired of that obnoxious thug, Mickey, terrorizing Kash because the latter was too much of a pushover to bother standing up to a teenaged punk. He’d smoothed things over with Mandy, but Mickey was relentless and had set his sights on an easier target.

Ian had already ransacked the Milkovich house to look for Kash’s gun, and he had marveled at how Kash was stupid enough to get himself a gun, but was too weak to even hold onto it properly. He’d thought Kash was a good enough guy – they liked the same music, enjoyed Sox games and he’d gotten him that really nice Hawks jacket. But it was too much once he’d shown beyond a shadow of a doubt how much of a pussy he was.

Kash was nice, yet a weakling. The sex was…meh. Fun, but he was too vanilla and seemed like he was in pain more than anything else when Ian fucked him. He couldn’t stand up to his wife. He didn’t have the determination or drive Ian craved in a partner, even though Ian was still inexperienced and had only had that brief hookup with Roger Spikey where Ian first discovered he was a top. “Donkey dick” comments and legends be damned, the kid bent right over for Ian once he saw what the redhead was packing.

With Kash, it felt like something was missing, even with the thrill and taboo of sleeping with a married man, and _topping_ him, no less. It was time for him to take matters into his own hands, because fuck knew that Kash wasn’t going to take care of it. When Ian set his mind to something, he got it done, just like he planned to get himself into West Point and into the Army with that same unflagging optimism, strength of will and ambition to make something of himself some day.

_I can’t believe I have to clean up after Kash’s fucking bullshit. He’s such a fucking pussy, he needs a 15-year-old boy – no, the teenage boy he’s fucking – to take care of his problems for him. No wonder Linda is able to boss him around so much, and it’s a wonder he’s even able to wipe his own ass without her having to do it for him. Good fucking grief._

Mandy had told Ian Mickey was downstate, picking their father up from prison, but he figured the gun had to be somewhere in Mickey’s room, and he was bound and determined to find it. Mandy was confused, but Ian was hell-bent on making sure that this bullshit ended where it was and Mickey stopped his fuckery of shoplifting from the store and messing with Kash.

Ian had no idea what the hell he was thinking when he grabbed the tire iron from the front porch of the Milkovich home and barged in, knowing full well he could be signing his own death warrant. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be awake. He saw and then crept carefully past the sleeping form of none other than the man he knew was the patriarch of the Milkovich family, Terry, of whom he’d heard nothing but terrible things. The man was in jail more than he was home, and if half of the rumors were to be believed, Ian was deader than dead if he woke up.

Ian had known, from being in the house enough times, where Mickey’s room was. Ian was a man on a mission, determined to settle this once and for all, get the gun back, and give Mickey a piece of his mind if he dared to set foot on the Kash and Grab property to shoplift anything ever again. To his credit, Mickey did do a good job of maintaining a terrifying presence, but Ian tried to put that at the back of his mind as he saw the prone form lying face down on the bed.

_He’s fucking terrifying when he’s awake, but damn if he doesn’t have a really nice ass, which is really fucking visible through his clothing when he’s lying on his stomach, sleeping like that. No. I’m not fucking thinking that now. I’m here for a reason, and I gotta do it. I gotta wake him up, because that’s what I came in here for, and that’s what I’m gonna do, goddamn it._

Ian went for it. He walked boldly up to Mickey and poked him right in the back with the tire iron, making a dull thud as the heavy metal rod tapped against the older boy’s spine.

“I want the gun back, Mickey,” he said, barely even recognizing his own voice, sounding more confident inside his head than he did as the words were exiting his lips. He’d walked into what surely was going to be his funeral and subsequent grave under this house. Mickey was going to fuck him up.

 

* * *

 

_Lust._

Ian felt like he was going to die. He’d had it out with Mickey, hoping against hope Terry was a sound sleeper in the living room. But in that moment, little did Ian know his fight-or-flight instinct, grappling with one of the neighborhood’s most notorious street thugs, would quickly turn into something he’d never expected: lust for the older teen boy’s body.

It was Mickey who took the first swing at Ian, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud as they grappled over the tire iron. Ian did his best to fend off Mickey, but the small thug was surprisingly strong and muscular for his size, sturdy and stocky. Ian couldn’t manage to shake him off, even after sending him flying backward into a dresser.

_Fuck this! I’m gonna fucking die! Mickey Milkovich is gonna fucking kill me, and my body is gonna be cut up into a million pieces and stuck under the floorboards!_

But then, things took a shift into the bizarre. Mickey wrestled Ian onto his bed, tire iron in hand and Ian’s lanky body pinned hard against the mattress. Ian tried to stifle his pants and sounds of terror as he closed his eyes, bracing for a blow to the head that never came.

Instead, Mickey was staring down at him, like the brunet was unsure what to make of the redhead or the situation. Since Mickey was straddling Ian, it was clear where Ian’s eyes were focused – Mickey’s crotch was level with Ian’s face as his legs were spread. He thought he imagined feeling an erection poking him, but sure enough, when he checked again to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, it was obvious Mickey had a tent in his gray pants. Mickey was turned on. _And goddamn it, so am I. What the fuck?_

Ian’s eyes flicked upward to Mickey’s, whose baby blue eyes looked just as confused as he was by his own body’s reaction. Dimly, Ian realized he was also hard. Ian’s eyes flickering back and forth for a minute. Another moment passed. Mickey nodded ever so slightly before ripping his own shirt off like it was on fire.

 _Am I gonna get fucked or die?_ Ian thought. _I still don’t know for fucking sure. But damn, this is hot! I’ve never bottomed before, but I damn well will for Mickey fucking Milkovich, because he’s gonna fucking bash me in the head if I suggest the other way around._

Ian tore off his own shirt as Mickey helped him out of it, both boys desperately shucking their clothing as if they were doing some sort of strange dance to see who could get naked as quickly as possible. Since Mickey had had a head start, it was he who ended up sitting on the bed, fully naked, his body on display for Ian, who tried his hardest not to stare, but failing miserably.

As Ian pulled off his pants and boxers, his hard cock sprung free from the constraining material. Mickey’s eyes got wide for half a second and then narrowed, mouth set in a line and still looking like he wanted to thrash Ian some more.

 _He’s got a real nice body,_ Ian thought lustfully, toned to where he has plenty of sexy muscle, but not so jacked to where he looks like he’s on steroids. Mickey’s cock was smaller than his own - although admittedly, very few men he’d seen even in porn were as big as Ian was - but flushed pink, foreskin bunched down under the head in its erect state, pre-cum beading at the tip, slightly curved, and Ian wanted to lick that little bit of pre-cum off of it, but decided against any first moves.

He continued staring as Mickey turned his whole body, facing away from Ian, to throw his discarded clothing off the side of the bed. _And that ass. Oh my god…what I wouldn’t give to stick my dick into that and pump it until I come._

Just then, the fantasy ended as a harsh voice barked, “You gonna keep staring at me like some kind of lovesick fuckin' chick, or are we gonna do this already? Jesus fuckin' Christ.”

 

* * *

 

_Pleasure._

Ian didn’t have condoms on him, not anticipating this was going to happen and knowing well enough to not keep any in his pocket. Sheepishly, the moment broken for the time being, Ian asked Mickey if he had any in this room.

By now, his desire for the older boy was at its breaking point and he couldn’t stand waiting any longer for the exquisite pleasure of having sex with such a fucking gorgeous person. He waited impatiently for Mickey’s response to the condom inquiry with bated breath.

“Yeah, but try fitting one over that fuckin' thing you got and you’re just gonna end up busting it,” Mickey answered. “You might have noticed the shit that’s gonna fit me ain’t gonna fit you. Just get on me, fuckhead. Wanna feel it anyway without a fuckin' rubber.”

Stupidly, Ian continued to stare until he realized: Mickey Milkovich was a bottom and wanted Ian to fuck him. _Holy fucking shit._ It was like Ian had won big at the fucking casino and the Illinois Lottery jackpot on the same day. _He was gonna fuck Mickey Milkovich._

“You got any lube?” Ian tried again.

Wordlessly, Mickey grabbed a tube of lube from underneath the headboard and started to prep himself with his fingers, before throwing the tube to Ian so he could slick up his own member. Ian still couldn’t believe what was happening, but his cock was more than pleased with it.

Still silent, Mickey got onto his hands and knees and presented that perfect fucking ass - a round bubble butt Ian wanted to slap to test exactly how much it jiggled, but Ian had evaded death once already in this room, and he really wasn’t in the mood to risk a second time. He wanted Mickey.

 _“Get on me,_ Gallagher. You fuckin' deaf?” came the voice from the pillows.

“Hold on a second.” Ian finished lubing up his cock, hoping against hope this wasn’t Mickey’s first time. It was bad enough having to wait for his other partners to adjust, and he really didn’t want to end up hurting Mickey...because Ian would probably end up having to pick up more than a few teeth off of the floor of this room if he overstepped any boundaries. He knew he was big and, in spite of this just being a hookup, he wanted Mickey to enjoy it.

Ian bit his lip, trying his hardest not to bust right away as he pressed his head into Mickey’s still-tight hole. Holy fuck, this feels amazing. So fucking good, Ian thought, still biting his lip.

Mickey wiggled slightly underneath Ian, his face still buried in the pillow. He groaned as loudly as he dared when Ian pushed in, but that wasn’t a moan of pain, but of pleasure. It dawned on Ian that this may not have been Mickey’s first time, given how easily and eagerly Mickey was able to take Ian without a lot of prep.

_Fucking hell. Either he prepped himself with toys and is used to it that way, or he’s fucked around with dudes a lot more than I thought. I shouldn’t have done this bare. But it feels too fucking good and it’s too late to pull out and stop now._

With his hands planted firmly on Mickey’s hips, he pulled out until just the very tip of his cockhead was being squeezed by Mickey’s muscles, then pushed back in before starting to take on a faster and harder pace. As he still exercised care, Mickey’s grunts turned into soft moans betraying his intimidating street presence.

 _He really likes this_ , Ian thought. _I’m fucking Mickey fucking Milkovich in the ass and he likes it._

Mickey grunted again, shifting his position slightly so that his hips were raised more and he could grasp his stiff cock with his right hand. He was leaking enough pre-cum, sufficiently turned on by this that he didn’t need lube. He moaned softly as he started stroking it, first slowly but then faster as his body started to tense up.

“Fuckin' hell, Gallagher,” Mickey let out, sounding strained but still pleasured. Ian couldn’t see Mickey’s face to tell if it bore any visible sign of discomfort, but figured Mickey would have let him know by now with a fist to the face if he didn’t want it. It was safe to assume otherwise.

_He fucking likes it. Holy shit. I’d be amazed if I wasn’t thinking more about how fucking good his ass feels on my dick. Holy fuck, I’m not gonna be able to last much longer._

As he continued pounding into Mickey, Ian angled his thrusts, trying to find what he knew was Mickey’s sweet spot. The hitched breathing and slightly louder moaning, muffled by the pillow, and the way Mickey squirmed underneath him let Ian know that he was on point.

Ian didn’t want this to end, but he knew it had to. “Fuck, Mickey. So good. Gonna come.”

“Fuck. Me, too,” Mickey said, trying to keep the breathiness out of his voice as much as possible. He gave his cock a few more strokes and he was finishing, cum squirting out into his hand and dripping down onto the sheets as his muscles contracted tightly around Ian.

 _Ohhhhh, fuck._   _That’s fucking it_.

Ian gripped Mickey’s hips as tightly as he dared while he filled Mickey with his release, biting his lip to keep from making further sounds.

 

* * *

 

_Confusion._

Ian lay in bed next to Mickey, unsure of where this was going to go. He’d slept with Mickey, that much was obvious. But it appeared to just be a hookup. They were lying in bed together after being scared half to death by Terry, who barely acknowledged them with a muttered request to put their clothes back on so as not to look like a “couple of fags.” _If it looks like a duck_...Ian thought, once it was clear they weren’t going to both die. He was lucky they had at least had enough time to cover up and not look like they’d just fucked.

What did this mean for Kash and himself? Ian felt a twinge of guilt for having technically betrayed his sort-of-boyfriend, sort-of-lover, but how was this really any different from what Kash was doing by stepping out on his wife? It could have been karma biting Kash in the ass, but what was more pressing on Ian’s mind was the fact that he was still in Mickey’s bed.

_I just fucked Mickey Milkovich. This is gonna be fucking awkward, but what do I do? Hold him? Kiss him? I highly doubt he’s the fucking cuddling type..._

Since Mickey wordlessly began putting his clothes back on, Ian took his lead and did the same. Ian became acutely aware of how bruised half of his face felt, and he figured he was going to have to explain that way to Fiona and Lip once he got back home. But for now, a heavy object dropped onto the bed, and Ian looked down at it.

_Kash’s gun. After all of this, I actually fucking got what I came here for._

Ian looked up from when the gun had fallen onto the mattress, and saw Mickey staring at him, face expressionless, as neither one of the two made a move or said anything. Ian was still confused, because he didn't know what to do. Still being fairly new to sex in general, he wasn’t sure how to handle a one-night stand - or one-day, to be exact.

As awkward as the situation with Kash was, they would sometimes hold and kiss each other after they were done. He supposed a quick kiss wouldn’t hurt, so Ian leaned in to see if the older man would be receptive to any of it.

 _Nothing doing._ “Kiss me and I’ll cut your fuckin' tongue out,” came the harsh reply as Mickey walked away.

 _What the fucking hell?_ Ian thought, slightly hurt by the rejection and still not sure how they had gone from fighting over a tire iron to fucking. _Well, at least I got the gun back._

Once Ian finished getting dressed, he said goodbye to Mandy, who was eating the eggs she’d made, while Terry cracked open a beer and was nursing it, still shirtless and looking as though he didn’t want this kid in his house for any longer than was necessary.

Ian then headed back out the front door, still considerably more confused than he had been when he entered the house on a complete whim in his determination to stop Mickey from fucking around with Kash. Instead, he was the one who had ended up fucking around with Mickey, albeit in a very different way.

The redhead shook his head as he walked back to the Gallagher house, thinking to himself that he’d gotten into a fine mess. He wasn’t sure how to feel, but he felt one thing for sure: he wanted this to be more than just a one-time deal.

The prospect of being able to do it again, once Mickey processed the enormity of the situation, made Ian feel something new, something to get him through another shift at the Kash and Grab.

_Hope._


End file.
